Bríd Bríd, come in; thy bed is ready

[acrookedchild]

Thig an nathair as an toll

Seven Sisters, Imbolc

The shop itself has been closed for the day. Still, invitations have gone out to everyone in the supernatural community but especially to the covens of both Circle Midnight and Circle Daybreak. Imbolc is a time for new beginnings, and Abigail Widdowson intends to make it one worth remembering.

(Headers for Imbolc here.)


Là donn Brìde,

Geap Manor, all February

Abigail Widdowson is now the Maiden of Witches.

It is a role, she is well aware, many would not see go to a Circle Midnight witch, especially not a Widdowson. But just as Sylvia is supposed to represent both Circles as the Mother, so is she as the Maiden.

So, letters have been sent.

Letters of welcome to every witch she knows of and every coven she's aware of. They demand nothing; there is no expectation of tribute or the like. Though she's sure that's happened in the past. Instead, it is a letter of invitation to call upon her at Geap Manor.

To meet her.


Ged robh trì troighean dhen t-sneachd

Westminster, mid February

"I placed my order ten minutes ago!"

It's a small inconvenience, really, and Abigail knows it, but it's just one of the many, many things that have been going wrong lately. Especially since she just got blown off for a meeting because 'an urget matter' had 'come up.'

But it's to be expected. Even with her new title, of course the Night Council really doesn't want to see her. They probably know what she's planning. What little idea has seized in the back of her mind. The less attention they pay to her, the harder it'll be, they know. But, well. She knows that the only way to get attention when someone is trying to ignore you is to get louder.

Right now, though, she's trying very, very hard not to take it out on the barista.

"Okay. Again. All I want is a hot chocolate. Shot of espresso. Shot of vanilla. Whipped cream. Please."

She even hands over her card again. Because if she has to pay twice? That's just fine.


Air leac an làir.

Enfield, late February

"Who's there?"

She can't avoid going outside, even after dark. As much as Abigail would like to just shut herself up in Geap Manor forever given everything happening, it's just not plausible. But her recent status of Maiden has made her a little more paranoid when out of the house.

Before, it was just the universe out to get her.

Now? She has actual enemies. Even if she's determined not to let them make her change her life. She hasn't forgotten that vampire Sylvia set on her. Sure, it had been in a controlled environment and just meant to scare her, but... It had done its job. And she didn't know how many more there were.

She needs to get silver, no matter what Unthank thinks about that. A small witch's amulet isn't much to really protect her, and she knows it.

All she has for protection is the phone in her pocket, and there's not much 999 can do about the supernatural.

Comments

Imbolc

[acrookedchild]

With the Seven Sisters closed for business, the lower level of the shop has been converted (for the day) into neutral territory for all to enjoy the celebration of Imbolc. There are several activities offered, and people are welcome to come and go as they please.

Geap Manor

[akillersmile]

Kyle is oblivious to the woman's new promotion, as he is to most of the supernatural community even still. His time in England has taught him a great deal about the Night Council, the rules of the supernatural, and so forth, but he's still trying to learn. Unlike most arrogant Americans, however, he's willing to admit his ignorance and is seeking out avenues to learn. Assuming they won't slam the door in his face.

The soldier double-checks the scrawl on the paper he returns to his pocket, confirming the address, as he walks up to the door. The place is enormous for living in London and he can't help but admire whichever witch it is who lives here. All he knows is that there is one. Which occurs to him as probably insufficient information as he gives a strong series of knocks on the door and then waits patiently for it to open.

Westminster

[knowstheworld]

Childermass has been watching. It's what Childermass does, after all, but it's hard not to be watching, as the young woman slowly reaches her boiling point. He recognizes who she is, oh yes. He would be a fool not to, what with her recent position within the witches.

Of course the Night Council does not want to recognize her. She represents to Sylvia, and to Norrell, that which they do not understand, nor do they want to for that matter. They look down on her, and she snubs her nose at them, and no one is happy, and everything just keeps getting worse and worse until. Well, the poor, incompetent barista winds up getting the brunt of it.

And so he sweeps his way forward, to loom behind the girl. Understanding the picture he makes, with his long dark hair, his long dark coat, and well, his face. Adding to it the rough way he speaks as he opens his mouth... "What seems to be the trouble here, then?"

Geap

[stauncherhearted]

There was something to be said about your friend having office hours: you could take advantage of them to guarantee that she was there. It was late enough that Nancy doubted anyone would take Abigail up on her offer to come in, and so she headed over to the iconic location, dark green coat pulled tight around her and a bottle of whiskey under one arm.

Whiskey, because wine was too light for this.

The other arm, well, the other arm is holding a large box of pizza.

Abigail had been through hell and back lately, and she needed to be there for her. They were supposed to be in this together, but Nancy had always taken a back seat. Now that Kenzi was... now that Kenzi was a vampire she needed to push forward, become closer with Abigail, for the sake of the coven, Midnight, and for both of their sanity.

Nancy knocks at the door- rather, uses her foot to knock, as a cold wind blows at the edges of her coat.

Geap Manor - Late February

[tearmeanewone]

Waiting this long probably could be judged as poor sportsmanship, but Elizabeth has a feeling she'd made her true feelings on the subject known below deck during the cruise. Really, she's been struggling less with the outcome of events and more with being put through them in the first place.

Elizabeth checks the address on the invitation surreptitiously (as though Norrell were waiting right over her shoulder to come up and snatch it from her), and confirmed she was in the right place. After drawing herself up and breathing, she knocks.